


Fingers Make Great Gifts.

by FereldanDorkMage



Series: The Uni!lock Adventures [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Uni!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:56:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1709093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FereldanDorkMage/pseuds/FereldanDorkMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He studied the various abuses the cadavers had sustain from the less-than-promising portion of the medical students with a grimace. He quickly decided no one was going to miss a few fingers off the rather unfortunate bodies, and they being disposed of soon anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingers Make Great Gifts.

John started at the cadaver's hand with narrowed eyes.

He was more than well aware that Sherlock had been asking for fingers in his odd way. He wasn't too stupid to notice the dramatic whining over the experiments he had planned, or the sighs that Molly would not give him body parts from her father's funeral home because it was "disrespectful to the dead!", even after Sherlock had made a clever quip about how very little the dead were able to care about something as trivial as respect. From his perspective, being dead seemed to hamper your ability to give a fuck about anything going on around you.

John sighed and switched the scalpel he held from his left hand to his right, wiping across his eyes with his newly freed arm.

He studied the various abuses the cadavers had sustain from the less-than-promising portion of the medical students with a grimace. He quickly decided no one was going to miss a few fingers off the rather unfortunate bodies, and they being disposed of soon anyways.

Besides, Sherlock probably wouldn't realize it at first, but it was a rather macabre romantic gesture on John's part. And while it was a bit odd, John would stretch the old "All is fair in love and war" maxim beyond it's meaning for as long as he possibly could. And he could definitely stretch the meaning to allow for some completely innocent severed fingers.

He began by cutting off the ring finger of a slightly obese man who appeared to be in his late forties. After a few injuries to his own hand, and a rather ridiculous struggle, he but it in the  bag he had stolen from Sherlock and moved on to the severing of an elderly woman's middle finger.

John briefly considered the mess he was making, but decided that if a problem arose with the missing appendages, the sloppiness of the job would help direct any suspicions to one of the more incompetent students, and (thankfully) away from him. Ah, the privileges of being a teacher's pet, even if it did come with the endless flirting the forty year old woman directed toward him. And the uncomfortably heated stares she shamelessly sent over cadavers, as if bloated dead bodies, other students, and professors weren't present.

He detached a pinky from the hand of a twenty-two year old school teacher who died of un-diagnosed type two diabetes. Shame, John thought, she was pretty. He shook out the thoughts, and set to work.

After many muttered curse, accidentally-self-inflicted injuries to the hand, nine toes, and fourteen severed fingers (which came from the cold appendages from eight people who had generously donated their bodies to the wonderful cause of medical science, probably ignorant of the horrors their bodies would be subjected to by equally ignorant medical students who really should have picked a different degree) which had been placed in a now-bloody paper bag with surprisingly good structural integrity, John found himself walking down the hall of the building that housed his shared dorm, suspicious looks being shot his way. He chocked it up to his flawless good looks and kept walking, sending a few of the girls a charming smile, and a few of the boys a quick wink.

Ah, yes. There was also the wonders of open bisexuality to thank for his obscenely high rates of success.

He entered his dorm room (number 122) and stepped over a duffel bag that he really didn't want to see the contents of,  _thank you very much_!

He put the fingers in a plastic baggie before putting them in a fresh paper bag and putting a blue bow around the bag to hold it closed and draw Sherlock's attention. John taped a note that read "for my only slightly mad scientist." on the bag. The bag was quickly shoved into the mini fridge that his food shared with Sherlock's bacterium and bloody bits more often than he'd like to think about.

Yeah, definitely shouldn't think about it. It really wasn't as pleasant statistic as his wonderful success rates.

He fell back onto the queen-sized bed he and Sherlock shared (a favor from Mycroft that Sherlock had accepted rather happily, although if you asked him, there), put in his ear buds, and decided that he would wait for Sherlock to get home. Whenever the hell that turned out to be.

* * *

John woke up to Sherlock's quick shout of "YES!"

He was kept awake by the sudden hug that Sherlock tackled him with.

"What are you-"

"The fingers! They're great! You could have cut them a little cleaner-"

"But you're gonna put them through all kinds of chemical abuse in the name of science anyways."

Sherlock grinned and kissed John clumsily on his cheek.

"That is very true,  _Doctor Watson_."

John grinned at the use of the title he craved.

"Of course, every doctor needs to be paid somehow, and" John pushed Sherlock onto the mattress and sat up, his chest heaving for air after Sherlock had practically tackled him. "I'm not in the business for the money."

"I really have absolutely no intention of paying you."

"Oh, I'm sure we can work something out."

Sherlock smiled and curled up like a self-pleased house-cat, lightly snoring as he fell into a much needed sleep.

"And don't criticize my cuts."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not quite sure what happened at the ending, but whatever.  
> Anyways, do leave a bloody comment.


End file.
